


Love You

by heohyunjoonz



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, Body Dysmorphic Disorder, Eating Disorders, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, One Shot, Romance, Self Confidence Issues, not an au, poor chanie :(, uhhhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23132695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heohyunjoonz/pseuds/heohyunjoonz
Summary: Inside the mind of poor Choi Chanhee, and his perspective on his pitiful boyfriend.
Relationships: Choi Chanhee | New/Kim Younghoon
Comments: 5
Kudos: 75





	Love You

**Author's Note:**

> this is no way a reflection of how i perceive chanhee as a person btw 
> 
> enjoy! some sensitive topics written but this is honestly fully self projection so no judgement please

Chanhee loved Younghoon.

He was sure that he did, it was just so simple. Even beyond Younghoon’s borderline intimidatingly good looks, Chanhee couldn’t deny that every aspect of Younghoon’s personality was just plainly good.

Chanhee couldn’t remember what it was about him that he had first fallen in love with, because at this stage, he was neck deep in everything about him. He thinks that maybe it was the tall nose bridge, or his endearingly lanky long limbs that had first caught his eye. Though it was probably his extremely symmetrical face, framed by his strong brows, and of course, the height. It was no secret that Younghoon was a pleasure to gawk at. 

It wasn’t long before Chanhee began to see beyond the delightfully proportional physicality of the boy, and began to notice the little things instead. The warmth that sparked in his eyes whenever he broke out into a grin, and the way his clammy fingers would dance amongst one another with nerves. 

Another thing Chanhee noticed was that Younghoon was touchy, so touchy that he was close to clingy. He would constantly grapple Chanhee, and pet his hair, and poke his cheek. Of course, Chanhee ate it all up, although he could never openly admit he quite liked it. Younghoon found great enjoyment grasping Chanhee from behind to make him jump, or squeezing his cheek until he whined at him to stop. 

Younghoon was also a listener, and with that, a talker. Chanhee found Younghoon chatting with him for hours at a time, and despite the fact that Chanhee never considered himself a conversationalist, he couldn’t help but feed into it all anyway. When Chanhee wasn’t up to talk, Younghoon was always more than pleased to tell a story, or recite the day’s events. The rare times Chanhee was in the mood to reverse that role, Younghoon would blissfully listen with a particular look in his eye, that sometimes flew straight over Chanhee’s head.

It took Chanhee far too long to notice that Younghoon wasn’t so clingy with everyone else, and didn’t listen just as much. It took him far too long to realise that the particular gaze Younghoon would give was only reserved for him.

In a flurry of words and touches, and stares and secret meet ups, something eventually blossomed.

Although they never made anything official, whatever was between them happened to become the most official element of Chanhee’s life at the time. It was always nice, to have someone call you pretty, and laugh at your jokes, and tell you everything that anyone would want to hear, and maybe Chanhee got a little too enthralled by it all.

In the beginning, neither of them could foresee any bumps in the road, and truly, they were right in their presumptions. They both got along well, well enough to never seriously quarrel, and they were well aware of all the boundaries and setbacks that were to come with the decision they were making. It was never going to be easy, and they both knew that.

Younghoon could see that, with blissful clarity and a clear head, but poor Chanhee, however, was wearing tinted glasses. He couldn’t tell what colour what they were, but he was sure it wasn’t pretty.

He worried, he worried sometimes that Younghoon maybe loved him too much. It wasn’t that Chanhee didn’t love him, in fact, he couldn’t recall ever loving someone as he much as he loved Younghoon.

It was the fact that someone loving Chanhee as much as Younghoon did made his head absolutely spin. Chanhee was ashamed to admit that he almost hated it. He couldn’t help but feel that Younghoon loved him more than he deserved to be loved.

Chanhee wished that he could see himself the way Younghoon saw him. In fact, he pleaded, he pleaded throughout the nights until his bedsheets were sodden by impotent tears and his pillows were stuffed with shaky sobs. He was so oblivious to what Younghoon saw in him, and even though it was quite evident that all of his words were soaked with sincerity, it all bewildered Chanhee nonetheless.

He will never forget the night that Younghoon came across him doing something he shouldn’t have been.

However, to Chanhee’s surprise, Younghoon wasn’t angry, or shocked, or disappointed. He simply sat on the cold tiled floor with the poor boy, and clutched him in his arms as tight as he could, allowing his chest racking sobs to bounce off the walls. He rubbed his back until his erratic breaths fell into a steady rhythm, and all that remained were pitiful little sniffles.

He took him out to the riverside after, and they sat together on a bench. For once, Younghoon didn’t talk. Neither did Chanhee, he just remained uncomfortably pressed into Younghoon’s side, but he wouldn’t have moved from his side even if his life had depended on it.

Chanhee listened, to the steadiness of Younghoon’s soft breathing, and the soothing, constant flow of the water before them. He hadn’t ever felt so calm in his entire life, but thinking as short as even two minutes into the future made his chest ache.

“You know that I love you just the way you are.”

Chanhee was suddenly reminded of the bitterness of bile staining the back of his throat, and the feeling of the night breeze against the dampness of his tear stained cheeks.

He nodded as sweetly as he could attempt to in the moment, nuzzling his head deeper into the crook of Younghoon’s neck.

He didn’t want to hear that.

“You don’t need to change.”

He squeezed Chanhee’s thigh reassuringly.

Chanhee thought, in that moment, that not only would he like to view himself the way Younghoon did, but the way he viewed the world as well. The bordering on childish innocence with which Younghoon viewed the world angered Chanhee in a way he couldn’t describe. He had almost hoped that Younghoon would’ve entered the room, and screamed at him, told him what he was doing was pointless and only harming the people around him. He hoped he would’ve broken out into tears of rage and concern, only to give in and finally try to comfort Chanhee.

He didn’t do that, though. He didn’t understand.

Chanhee knew. He knew he didn’t _need_ to change, and he knew that Younghoon loved him just the way he was, but Chanhee _wanted_ to change. Chanhee wanted Younghoon to love someone that deserved his love, somebody that was good enough for him.

That’s when it began. The envy.

Over time, Chanhee began to notice the little things again. How bony his wrists were, and the way his ribs peeked out whenever he rose his arms to remove his shirt. The slenderness of his fingers, and how clothes hung off his lacking frame. The way his skin felt soft to the touch no matter what, and how even if he had forgotten to wash it that morning, his face constantly had a healthy glow.

He noticed the length of his eyelashes, and how blindingly white his teeth seemed to be. The way his hair always seemed to effortlessly fall into perfection, and the way his eyebrows never needed to be tamed or brushed into the right direction.

He was jealous. He wanted the prominent ribs, and the frail wrists, and the skinny fingers. He wanted the flawless skin, and the perfect teeth, and the mannequin-like frame. He would've killed for it. 

God knows what he had already done to try and get them already.

It wasn’t long before he couldn’t stand seeing Younghoon with no shirt on, nor could he stand Younghoon seeing him the same way. He fought the urge to swat away Younghoon’s hand whenever it landed on his thigh, or his arm, and tried his best to look him straight in his eyes, as though nothing was going on.

He loved him, so much, too much, even. So much that he couldn’t stand that he loved him back.

Despite it all, Younghoon was still there, always.

He was there when Chanhee weeped silently by the fridge at night, to take him into his arms and rock him back and forth until everything felt a little bit better. He told him that it was okay, and that he loved him.

He was there when Chanhee felt like burning his skin with a lighter until it melted, or scratching it until it bled, to let him sleep the rest of the night with him in bed, caressing the back of his head until he finally drifted to sleep. He told him to try to get some sleep, and that he loved him.

He was always there to tell him that he loved him.

It made Chanhee wonder.

He wondered if Younghoon even noticed a change in him at all. He wondered if Younghoon had even really known him in the first place at all. Chanhee knew that Younghoon was ever so aware of what was going on, but it still felt as though he had no idea in the slightest.

Still, the way Younghoon had began to cling onto him like a second skin made him think that maybe he had.

He wondered.

He wondered, that if he yanked off that second skin and with it came his own, leaving Chanhee collapse into a pile of blood, and muscle, and sinewy gunk;

Would he still say I love you?

**Author's Note:**

> hope u enjoyed! i actually got quite emotional writing this. chanhee and younghoon are both fun to write since they’re both so loveable
> 
> bai


End file.
